


Leo?

by jastoise



Category: Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Gen, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8837455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jastoise/pseuds/jastoise
Summary: A quick writing exercise.I would really like to post some reader insert fic on here soon, but wanted to try my hand at it before moving forward. This was more so aimed at developing my ability to describe scenery.
Modern AU taking place after Conquest.





	

You sat solemnly in the booth, worn leather sticking to your thighs and overbearing heat manifesting as little droplets across your upper lip. It was uncomfortably warm in the old diner. Remnants of fifties-themed trinkets littered the linoleum countertops and faded, piss-yellow walls: a blue and purple Elvis print over the register, a tired looking woman — you guessed late forties — popping pink bubblegum that stuck all over her chapped lips with each burst, a broken jukebox whose repertoire had been diminished to scratchy version of, “Good Golly Miss Molly,” and, “Teenager in Love”. You groaned at the irony.  
  
  
You unstuck your thighs from the ripped cushion and continued to fiddle with your cup of crappy coffee. It was 90 degrees, dry as all hell, but you felt chilled. Chilled at the thought of meeting him after all these years, chilled at the memory of his baby pink lips turned glossy with every swipe of his tongue. Chilled by the thought of the sweat accumulating on his banged forehead, the nervous tap he gave his collar bone whenever he felt uncomfortable, and the depth behind his rich brown eyes. Above all else, you were chilled at the thought of having to speak. Your throat tightened at the thought, your body jumped every time the dingy little bell rang as someone entered the diner. Your heart was racing, and he hadn’t even arrived.  
  
  
You had wondered why he’d asked to meet you here. It definitely wasn’t because of the pie or the fries. Perhaps it was the meaning of it all. Perhaps he genuinely enjoyed watching you squirm under his gaze, knowing well that you two had engaged in a little heavy petting at the booth closest to the bathrooms the first time you met his family. Her knew you too well and that terrified you. But you came anyway. You came because you had longed to see him, regardless of the pain that coursed through your veins, tabbed at your heart, and tightly locked its hands around your throat at the mere thought of him. You knew that that pain was actually why you had decided to come, yet you chose to deny it. I’m not a masochist, you thought, disregarding the occasional roughhousing you two had shared in the bedroom.  
  
  
You tried not to think of the way he’d look at you — recollection bordering on pity and disgrace — or the way his voice would crack from the diner’s stagnant air. How’s school? he’ll ask, Decided on your major yet? You’d be able to answer him this time: It’s shit, but I have. He’d scowl. Or smile. Or bite his lip and avert his gaze. Either way, you felt tears spring to your eyes. You’re hopeless, angry, and without a doubt still very, very much in —  
  
  
“Y/n?”  
  
  
You froze. Your throat clenched. You felt a calloused hand grip your shoulder, a touch so delicate yet so firm. You remember writhing underneath it, underneath course sheets, on nights much like this one. You turned slowly. “Leo,” you managed to croak. It was worse than you had imagined.  
  
  
He slid in the seat across from you and began to pick at his thumb. He couldn’t look at you. You licked your lips, “You’re late.”  
  
  
“Sorry, Camilla took forever to get ready.”  
  
  
“She’s here?”  
  
  
“No, no, I had to drop her off at… How’re you?”  
  
  
He looked up and your breath hitched. Terrible, you wanted to scream, Heartbroken. Devastated. Exhausted. “I’m fine.”  
  
  
“That’s good.” He didn’t believe you. You knew he didn’t, but he didn’t want to press further. Good, it’s your fault anyway, asshole.  
  
  
“How’s school?”  
  
  
You smirked. Predictable.  
  
  
“It’s… great, actually,” you lied, “I’ve declared a major — two actually: rhetoric and mathematics.”  
  
  
He grinned, “That’s fantastic, though quite surprising. You always hated math.”  
  
  
“Well, I had an… enthusiastic teacher.”  
  
  
His chuckle sent a stabbing pain through your gut. You couldn’t breathe.  
  
  
“H-how about you?”  
  
  
“Me? I’m… honestly? Shitty.”  
  
  
You felt your eyes widen in surprise, “Why?”  
  
  
“I… um… Xander and Elise they… they’re dead.”  
  
  
Nausea. Unbearable nausea. Migraine, god, what a fucking migraine. You could have sworn your blood had frozen, what else could have ceased the beating of your own heart?  
  
  
“W-what?”  
  
  
“Car accident. Drunk driver. It was three months ago.”  
  
  
Your nails dug into the pleather seats, ripping up yellowed cushion and dust. “Leo, I…”  
  
  
“I know.”  
  
  
You bit your lip, drawing a little blood, and scrunched up your face before burying it deep into the darkness of your cupped palms. Hot tears seared your cheeks, your fingers grasped at your hair. How. How how how how how how how. Why. Why now? Why them? Why was he telling you this as if it were any of your business anymore? You couldn’t breathe. God, it was so fucking hot. You could no longer bear the stench of stale oil and cigarette smoke. You lurched out of the booth and stumbled out into the volcanic heat. Bile rose in your throat and a feeling of absolute anguish forced you to give up about a months worth of food next to an old blue Buick. Embarrassing.  
  
  
You felt someone come up behind you and one hand pull your (h/c) tresses away from your flushed face. The other hand rubbed calming circles along the length of your spine. You vomited until you couldn’t and then collapsed against a popcorn textured wall. He knelt before you and wiped your mouth with a napkin.  
  
  
You were exhausted. Leo crawled over next to you. Instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder. Tears no longer stained your face, chills no longer coated your veins in ice. His deft fingers combed through your hair.  
  
  
He said nothing at first. He let you catch your breath and absorbed the heat radiating from your body, a body that was no doubt utterly exasperated of all strength. Xander and Elise had been just as much your family as they had been his, so he had expected this reaction. He did not, however, expect this interaction to conjure up such nostalgia nor did he expect to feel elated by the opportunity to hold you close. This was no time for happiness, clearly, but the weight that had so persistently sat upon his chest since the two of you parted had alleviated, albeit not entirely. His skin tingled with excitement when your hair brushed against his exposed bicep. Leo felt as though he may burst when your hand wove into his own. He prayed you would mistake the racing of his own heart with sadness, not excitement or longing. He kissed the top of your head gingerly.  
  
  
“Let me drive you home,” he whispered. You nodded. With his help, the two of you walked slowly over to his car, a black BMW that, by the looks of it, could not have been more than a couple of months old. Guess the trust fund was redirected.  
  
  
He lowered you into the passenger seat, his hand lingering on your arms a millisecond longer than they should have before closing the door. You felt light-headed, both by the news of Xander and Elise and by the euphoria that seemed to jolt you out of your depression every time his rough hands lightly caressed your skin. It was all too much, too overwhelming.  
  
  
“Same address?”  
  
  
You nodded meekly, “Leo?”  
  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
  
“Hi.”  
  
  
“Hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that! Terrible, I know, but it was just practice. If you read, please let me know what you think and what I could improve upon!


End file.
